


Pick Up a Party Bag

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: Mindhunter (TV 2017)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Fantasizing, M/M, open relationship/polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-11 20:34:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20159686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: Holden has been fantasizing.





	Pick Up a Party Bag

**Author's Note:**

> listen I just got real hung up on the idea of Holden having some questionable fantasies and we ended up here. 
> 
> big thanks to Hannah for beta'ing, as always!
> 
> enjoy!

Bill is aware that he’s what most people would call ‘vanilla.’ He is comfortable in this knowledge; he is secure in it. He made peace with it long ago that his brain is delightfully _not _deviant, and that he likes the simple things in life. Including his sex life. His job has, of course, given him a startling insight into the sort of shit people get up to in the privacy of their own heads—and sometimes not in private at all. In a similar and yet completely different way, Bill learned this from his schoolyard friends, too, like his old friend Jim who brought dirty magazines to a party once and it was all sorts of ropes and bindings and other such nonsense. 

So yes, Bill is comfortable knowing he’s vanilla. He likes it that way. Nancy likes it that way. It serves them both well. 

Holden, however, is the furthest thing from vanilla. At least, he is to Bill. Or maybe, more accurately, _with _Bill. Bill has no idea what Holden got up to with previous partners, like Debbie—Bill doesn’t even know for certain if Holden has ever been with other men. 

All Bill knows for sure is that the filth that spills from Holden Ford’s pink mouth could make just about anyone blush. Including Bill. 

Their little fling started on the road and stays on the road—their rules, and Nancy’s, amazingly enough. His wife’s willingness to let him indulge this fantasy is probably the least vanilla thing about Bill’s sex life, and he’s so grateful to her for it. 

But back to Holden. Holden is in bed as he is out of bed: brazen, bold, brash, all sorts of adjectives to describe his uncaring yet carefully crafted behavior. He is sharp-tongued and eager in the classroom and in motel bedrooms. Very quickly, it had become clear that he was going to give Bill a run for his money. 

They’ve mostly found a rhythm now, a balance of vanilla and...whatever flavor Holden could be classified as. Something fancy, extravagant, where it doesn’t even necessarily taste good but it’s so indulgent it can’t be resisted. They blend almost bizarrely well together, or maybe that’s just the thrill of doing something so illicit. 

They have a rhythm, and it’s all going swell up until a night when Bill is deep inside Holden and Holden blurts out, “I masturbated while thinking about Kemper.” 

It’s a testament to the tight, wet heat of Holden’s body that Bill’s cock does not immediately soften. He does stop thrusting, even though it makes Holden whine, and he flexes his hand where it’s gripping Holden’s hip. He’s spooned up behind Holden, with Holden nearly humping into the sheets below them.

Despite the arousal miraculously pumping through his veins, Bill speaks, “What are you talking about?” 

Holden tucks his face into his arms and lets out a shuddery gasp. “I masturbated,” he starts.

“While thinking of Kemper, yeah, I got that, funny enough.” Bill gives a punishing thrust forward and Holden’s moan catches in his throat. “What the fuck, Holden?”

Holden whimpers. “I don’t know, it just happened.” He clenches around Bill as he continues, “It just came to me, and, and, _fuck_, Bill.” 

Against his better judgement, Bill asks, “What did you picture?” 

Holden lets out a breath that sounds like relief. He lifts his head from his arms, swings one hand back to clutch at Bill’s hand, grasping for him desperately. “We were interviewing him.”

“I was there?”

Holden lets out a half-laugh, half-moan. “Of course, Bill,” he says. “Of course you were there.”

The moment breaks as Bill’s hips jump and he presses harder and faster inside Holden, effectively fucking any words from his filthy mouth. Eventually, Bill slows his pace again, and Holden starts talking like he never stopped. 

“Kemper wanted a reward, for good behavior. For helping us, with the interviews.” Holden hiccups gently, pausing every few words as if he’s struggling to get the words out. “I don’t, don’t know the specifics.” 

“Get on with it,” Bill growls as he thrusts, keeping his rhythm torturously slow. 

“It jumps ahead,” Holden gasps, “To Kemper bending me over a table and him telling you to take my mouth. _Letting_ you have my mouth, because he doesn’t know we’re involved, and he thinks—he thinks he’s doing you a solid. Like you’re buddies.” 

Bill, to his core, is disgusted by the idea. But Holden’s desperate panting makes the words sound so good. He kisses the curve of Holden’s shoulder before biting down on pale skin. It’s not enough to distract himself from saying, “Why the hell would I let Kemper have a go at your ass?” 

Bill’s grip shifts from Holden’s hip to cup his ass, squeezing the cheek for emphasis. Holden startles and a wail breaks from his lips only to be smothered against his arm at the last moment. 

“Why would I let anyone at this?” Bill growls in Holden’s ear before nipping at the lobe. 

“Because,” Holden starts, stops, moans softly. “Because you make him wear a condom, and I don’t want the taste of latex in my mouth, so the only other option is—!”

“Jesus Christ,” Bill hisses. “You’re ridiculous.” He pushes until Holden is on his front on the sheets; the new angle lets Bill pound into Holden relentlessly. For a moment, Holden buries his face in the sheets and moans, muffled, until Bill gets a hand in his silky hair. He barely has to tug before Holden leans his head back to keep going. 

“It skips again. He fucks me hard and fast. Prepped me good, it doesn’t hurt. You’re in my mouth and your hands are in my hair and the table is so cold and hard underneath me, it’s distracting.” Holden shivers. “Kemper won’t shut up but all I can think about is, is how it all feels. He offers to let the security guard have a taste, and—?” 

Holden moans, arches his back, and Bill watches his back ripple as the other man shoots come against the sheets. He whimpers and whines the entire time until he’s spent and relaxing, laying right in the wet spot.

Bill comes not long after, drawn in by the clench of Holden’s hole and the gentle way Holden looks over his shoulder at him, lips pouty and eyes wet with unshed tears. He shoots his load deep in Holden and watches his lover shudder at the sensation.

Bill falls forward without feeling too bad about covering Holden with his weight. In his ear, Bill says, “Good god, Holden.”

He doesn't need to see the other man’s face to know he’s grinning; Bill can hear it in his voice. “I know,” Holden says, simple and pleased. 

“Never again,” Bill says as he finally pulls out. He admires his come leaking from Holden for a moment, before snatching one of their discarded tees from the floor to wipe him clean. “You hear me?”

Holden rolls over. His cock is soft and his front is covered in come. “I hear you,” he replies. “Shower?” 

For a moment, Bill considers saying no. He could tell Holden to shower alone and take the time to clean the sheets and sort out the thoughts in his head. Thoughts like _god, why are we doing this_ and _is Holden actually that crazy_ and _I miss Nancy, but not as much as I should_. These thoughts always seem to come to him after a night with Holden. Some space, even as minor as being a room apart, might do them some good.

“Shower,” Bill agrees as he clambers off the bed. He holds out a hand to Holden to help him up.

Holden’s answering grin is blinding.

_Maybe_, Bill thinks as they slip into the too-small shower together, _maybe I’m not so vanilla. _


End file.
